Move On
by seetherrayne
Summary: She looked up at him, and for a second, she couldn't breathe. They were mere inches apart, and it wouldn't take very much to kiss him if she wanted to. And she definitely wanted to…
1. Chapter 1

**I originally intended to write this for Stydia Week, but college made sure that didn't happen. Oh well. Enjoy!**

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><p>Lydia sat at the table, watching the dancing crowd. The music was pounding, the fast beat starting to make her head hurt, but she couldn't help but smile at Scott and Kira trying to dance to the fast song.<p>

She shifted her gaze slightly, finding Stiles and Malia. The coyote actually seemed to be doing pretty well, in Lydia's opinion, and she was happy that Malia got to have this human experience. But something still sparked within her when Malia put her hands around Stiles neck as she grinded her hips. Stiles put his hand on her hips, trying to match her beat.

There was one more couple that should've been dancing together, but that was never going to happen now. The boy was in France, and the girl…well, the girl was gone.

Lydia looked away, taking a drink of punch. She wished that it was something much stronger.

"Hey, Lydia," Danny said, coming to sit down next to her.

"Hi," she replied, smiling. "Where's your date?"

"Bathroom," he told her. "Where's yours?"

She looked back down at her punch, embarrassed, before flashing him a confident smile. Atleast she hoped it looked confident. "I don't have one."

"Really?" he asked, surprised. "Lydia Martin doesn't have a date for prom?"

"Why should I limit myself to one person?" she said. "I like keeping my options open."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"No," she answered. She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump in it. "No one asked me. Apparently no one wants to go to prom with the screaming lunatic."

Danny's expression softened, and he put a hand over hers. "You don't know that. They're probably all just intimidated."

Lydia's vision blurred as the memory of last week played through her head. "No, they're not. I overheard a couple of guys talking a week or so ago."

"_Dude, you still haven't asked anyone?" the taller one of the two had asked. She was standing outside the boy's locker room, waiting for Scott so she could help him pick out Kira's corsage. The two boys were standing right inside the doorway, unaware that anyone else was there. _

"_Who am I supposed to ask?" the other boy – Owen, she thought – asked. _

"_You've always had a crush on Lydia Martin, why not ask her?" _

"_Are you kidding? I can't do that!" _

"_Why not?" Owen's friend asked. "It's not like she's Queen-Bee anymore. She's the exact opposite now. She'll take what she can get."_

_She narrowed her eyes at the comment. Could he be any ruder?_

"_She couldn't get Greenberg anymore," Owen explained. "The chick's psycho. Everybody knows that. Haven't you noticed that even Stilinski's realized she's not worth it anymore?"_

Lydia had left after that. She didn't want to hear their insults. But she couldn't help but think about the ones she did happen to hear.

_Haven't you noticed that even Stilinski's realized she's not worth it anymore?_

And he had. He had moved on with Malia, leaving Lydia to herself. The worst part was that she didn't blame him at all. He deserved to move on. He deserved to realize that she wasn't worth it, because she wasn't. She had put him through enough.

"Lydia, you're not crazy," Danny said gently. "I know you're not."

"You know what? It doesn't matter." She sat up, trying to make herself look more confident than she was. She was well practiced in that art. "I'm done with teenage boys."

Malia plopped in the chair next to her, Stiles following in the seat next to Malia. "But teenage boys are fun."

Lydia shrugged. She hadn't even noticed the song change. It was a slow song, which made Lydia wonder.

"Why aren't you guys dancing?" she asked.

"I don't really like slow dancing," Malia said. "It's not as fun."

"Shame," Lydia drawled.

"Why don't you and Stiles dance?" Malia suggested.

"What?" she asked.

"Yeah," Malia said, suddenly excited. "Stiles likes to slow dance, and you haven't gotten to dance at all. It's perfect!"

"No, it's fine," Lydia objected. "I don't mind not dancing."

"But it's prom," Malia said, practically begging. "Stiles you don't mind, right?"

"No," he said. "Of course not."

He stood up, walked over to Lydia and held his hand out to her, a humor-filled smirk gracing his face as he bowed. "May I have this dance, malady?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. "Fine."

"Have fun," Danny called as they made their way to the dance floor.

They joined the other kids dancing as another slow song started. Stiles put his hand on her waist as she wound hers around his neck hesitantly, her mind flashing back to the Winter Formal as she did so.

"You know, I haven't danced with anybody since Winter Formal last year?" she told him.

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, looking down. "A lot's changed since then."

"Yeah, it has," he replied.

They danced in silence for a minute, Lydia's heart beating faster the longer he held her close. It had been a long time since they'd been this close to each other for longer than a few seconds, and she didn't realize how much she missed it until now. Without thinking, she rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed. His hands wrapped around her back, pulling her closer to him, and she couldn't help the way her heart skipped a beat.

She looked up at him, and for a second, she couldn't breathe. They were mere inches apart, and it wouldn't take very much to kiss him if she wanted to. And she definitely wanted to…

But she wouldn't. She couldn't. He was finally getting over her, and he deserved to. He was happy with Malia, and she wasn't going to try to ruin that.

She stepped away from him, taking the temptation away.

"Lydia, are you okay?" he asked, concern filling his gaze. "What's wrong?"

"I…I need some air," she said quickly, pushing her way back through the crowd.

She couldn't feel this way about him. It was wrong. He didn't care like that. Not anymore.

How much of a bitch did it make her to want the boy who worshipped the ground she walked on for years only _after _he stopped?

_Haven't you noticed that even Stilinski's realized she's not worth it anymore?_

She held her hand to her mouth to hold back a sob as she opened the door that led outside. That boy was right. She wasn't worth it. Not for Stiles. She had been nothing but hateful to him for years. Yes, they were friends now, but he moved on. He _needed_ to move on. Someone like Stiles deserved better than her. Someone who saw how amazing and special he was from the beginning, and didn't need her world to turn upside down just to acknowledge his existence.

Someone like Malia.

But it didn't mean it didn't hurt to watch him be with her. It hurt like hell. But the strain it had been putting on their friendship hurt the most.

"Lydia, what's wrong?"

She took a deep breath and turned around, giving Stiles a small smile. "I'm fine. I just needed some air, I promise."

He arched an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. "What's really wrong?"

She looked down at her hands, wringing them as they spoke. "I just…didn't wanna dance anymore, okay?"

"You could've just said that," he said.

"I know," she told him. "I should have, I just…I'm sorry."

"It's okay, don't be." Stiles took a few steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he got a better look at her face in the dim light. "Why are you crying?"

"It's nothing, it's just…" she paused, not wanting to tell him. So she settled on the other thing that had been bothering her. The thing she hadn't let herself think about. Her vision blurred as she finally let those thoughts fill her mind. "She should be here."

His face softened, because he immediately knew what she meant. "Lydia…"

"She should be here, and she should be dancing, and having fun, but she's not. She can't ever do that."

He went to put his arms around her, but she pulled back. While she wanted to be close to him, she couldn't.

The confusion was plain on his face as she took a step back. "Lydia?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Just go have fun with Malia."

"I've not just going to leave you out here," he said.

"I think I'm just gonna go home," she said slowly, refusing to look at him. "I shouldn't have come in the first place."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "Just because you don't have a date doesn't mean that you shouldn't have come. That's the stupidest reason to not go to prom."

"That's not it," she snapped. "I'm just…not having any fun."

"Well, I know I'm not the best dancer, but jeez," he joked, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Hey, Scott's a decent dancer. He'd love to dance with you."

Her chest tightened. "It's not your dancing. I'm just…my heart's not in it."

That was an outright lie. Her heart was in it too much. That was the problem. But he didn't have to know that.

"Please stay," he said. "I will dance with you until your heart's in it, okay? Just don't go. She wouldn't have wanted that. "

Lydia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't tell you," she said.

"Lydia, you can tell me anything," he told her.

"Not this," she replied, backing away. "I have to go."

She turned around and started walking towards her car.

"Lydia, wait!" he called, and she knew that he was following her. "What the hell is so wrong that you don't think that you can tell me? Just talk to me, Lydia."

She felt his arm on her elbow and pulled away, getting more frustrated by the second.

"Lydia! Why can't you tell me?"

"Because just admitting it to myself makes me a total bitch!" she yelled, spinning around to face him, causing him to almost run into her.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I. Am. A. Bitch," she reiterated. "I'm a bitch because of you."

"Because of me?" he asked. "How the hell are you a bitch because of me?"

"Because I love you!" she said, immediately realizing her mistake. Her eyes widened as his did, and she took another step back.

"What?" he asked again, his voice softer.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly. There was no going back now. "I've loved you for a while, but I didn't realize it until it was too late. Pretty bitchy move, right? The bitch always realizes she likes the boy who's been chasing her for years after he finally realized she isn't worth it anymore!"

He shook his head in frustration as he looked away from her. "Dammit. Lydia, are you serious?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm serious. But I know you're moving on, and I'm accepting that. So go be with Malia, and be happy. I'll be fine."

She turned around again, but before she could take a step forward his voice stopped her.

"What if I haven't moved on?"

She felt her heart skip a beat. Slowly, she turned back around to face him. "What did you say?"

"What if I haven't moved on?" he repeated, holding his arms out to his sides.

She looked at him, trying to pin down her emotions. There was shock, surprise, hope…anger.

"Don't you dare say that!" she yelled, stalking back to him.

"Why not?" he yelled back at her. "It's the truth!"

"It shouldn't be!" she said, her voice catching as tears filled her eyes. "You should be sick of me! Any normal guy would have realized I wasn't worth it a long time ago! You need to realize that I am _not worth it!_"

"Why aren't you worth it?" he countered. "What makes you think that?"

"Because it's the truth!" she told him, backing up again. "I'm not worth your time. You deserve someone a lot better than me."

"Like who?" he asked.

"Malia!" she replied. "Atleast she can do something. Atleast she can protect the people she cares about, even if it is just you."

"Lydia," Stiles said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You saved almost everyone on that deadpool."

"No, I didn't," she argued. "You guys did. All I did was give you the names. Everyone else did the rest! And you and Malia were the ones to stop it, not me!"

"And we couldn't have done any of that without you!" he exclaimed. "God! Lydia, you're important! You matter just as much as anyone else! More to some people."

"You know what?" she shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm going home."

"Lydia, please," he said as she turned around once again, refusing to turn towards him again.

"Go back inside!" she called behind her. "I don't want you to follow me. I don't want to see you! So just leave me alone!"

Those were lies, of course, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

When she got into her car, she looked back and saw Stiles disappear inside the gymnasium. She knew that he would do what he thought she wanted, and even though it wasn't what she actually wanted, it was what needed to be done. He had to let her go.

She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions back under control. She was doing the right thing, she knew it.

Now if she could just convince her heart.

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><p><strong>As always, I love to hear what you think! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so I decided to continue, because even I think that it can't just end like it did. I think I'm going to do atleast one more after this, so stay tuned!**

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><p>"Are you going to visit your dad this summer?" Kira asked Lydia as they walked down the hall. It had been a week since prom, and you could practically smell the excitement of the season changing and school ending.<p>

"I don't know yet," she shrugged. "It'll depend on work. I wouldn't mind going to the beach, though."

They turned the corner, and Stiles and Malia were at the other end of the hall, holding hands as Malia got her books out of her locker. Kira waved at them, and Malia waved back as Kira grabbed Lydia's arms and pulled her towards the couple.

Lydia's stomach twisted as she got closer to Stiles. They hadn't said one word to each other since that night, and she really didn't want to start now.

"Hey," Kira greeted them. "You guys ready for summer?"

"Definitely," Malia said with a sigh. "Summer means no math."

"Well…" Stiles said slowly. "You might need a little bit of math. Just so you don't forget everything."

Malia looked at him like he was insane. "Are you kidding me? We're not doing math, okay? I can think of a lot more fun things to do…"

Lydia looked down at her shoes, wanting to sink into the floor.

"Um…yeah," Stiles said as the bell rang. "Let's get to class."

She looked back up in time to see Stiles looking at her awkwardly. God, she never should have told him.

"See you in Econ," Stiles told her before walking away, Malia still holding his hand. Lydia watched them go, the urge to disappear getting stronger with every second.

"Are you okay?" Kira asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Fine," she said with a smile. "Let's get to class."

"Are you sure?" Kira prodded. "You don't look fine."

"It's nothing," Lydia told her.

"Is this about prom?" the kitsune asked as they started walking. "You still won't tell me why you left."

"Yes, I did," Lydia said. "I told you that I was tired."

"You didn't tell me the _real_ reason," she corrected. She was silent for a moment before lowering her voice. "Is this about Stiles?"

"What would Stiles have to do with anything?" Lydia snapped, her stomach twisting even more.

Kira stopped walking, pulling Lydia into the girls' bathroom. She checked the stalls to make sure that they wouldn't be overheard before turning to back to Lydia. "I know you have feelings for him."

Oh, God. Was she that pathetically obvious? "What makes you say that?"

"I've had suspicions ever since I first met you guys," she shrugged. "It's just…everything. I honestly thought that you guys were gonna be the ones to get together. Not him and Malia."

"Well life doesn't always happen the way you think, now does it?" she asked.

"You like him, don't you?" Kira asked, her eyes wide with compassion.

She nodded. "Yeah, I do. But he's with Malia now, so it doesn't matter." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she didn't care. "I'll get over it."

The second bell rang, and Lydia headed to the door. "Come on, don't wanna be late."

''''''''''

"What's going on between you and Lydia?" Scott asked in the locker room as they changed back into their clothes.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, eyes going wide as he looked at his best friend. "There's nothing going on between Lydia and me. Nothing at all. Why, what have you heard?"

"Should I have heard something?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Things have been really awkward between you guys since prom."

"What makes you think that things are awkward between me and Lydia?" Stiles said, shrugging.

"Dude, I can smell emotions, remember?"

Stiles sighed. "Honestly, man? I don't even know. She…uh, she said some things at prom, and I just can't get them out of my head."

"What did she say?" Scott asked.

Stiles looked around, not comfortable with saying it in a crowd. "Not here, okay? Are you going to work after this?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded.

"I'll meet you there," Stiles told him.

"Was what she said that bad?" his best friend asked.

"It's not necessarily bad," he explained. "It's just…private."

"Okay," Scott said. "Meet me at work."

''''''''''

Lydia was walking to her car, responding to her mom's text. She didn't notice that there was anybody around her until she ran into them.

"Sorry," she said, looking away from her phone.

"It's okay," Stiles replied.

She felt her heartbeat speed up as she looked at him, barely noticing that Scott was next to him and could probably hear her heart hammering in her chest.

"I, uh, I should go," Lydia said, looking away. "Lots of…you know…homework."

"Yeah," he replied. "Me, too."

She quickly walked to her car, cursing herself for being so stupid. She never should have told him.

She turned the radio on, turning it up as loud as she could stand before driving out of the parking lot, trying to drown out her thoughts.

''''''''''

"What was that all about?"

They were in the back, Scott feeding the dogs.

"Prom," Stiles answered. "We danced, and she suddenly just ran off, so I followed her because I thought she might be sick or something. But when we went outside…she admitted something."

"What did she admit?" Scott asked, standing up and looking at Stiles.

"She told me that she loved me."

The way Scott's eyes widened was almost comical. "She _what?_"

"Yeah," Stiles said. "And she said that it made her a bitch, because she didn't realize it until it was too late, and that I should move on with Malia."

Scott took a few steps closer to his friend. "Is that really what you want to do?"

"I don't even know anymore," Stiles told him, running a hand down his face. "I mean I like Malia, I really do. But when Lydia said she loved me...I don't know. I didn't even remember Malia until Lydia said something about her. How horrible of a person does that make me?"

"You're not a horrible person," his best friend told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, I am!" he said, shrugging off Scott's hand as he started pacing.

"Look," Scott started, watching Stiles pace. "I'm probably not the best person to get dating advice from, but you need to do what makes you happy. If that's staying with Malia, awesome, but if it's being with Lydia, then that's awesome, too."

"I don't want to hurt either of them," he admitted quietly, looking at his best friend.

"I know you don't," Scott said. "I really don't think this is something that you should decide quickly, though. You really need to think about this, Stiles."

"Yeah, I know," Stiles nodded.

The problem was, he had been doing nothing but thinking about it for the past week, and he was no closer to making a decision.

''''''''''

"I really don't think that we're going to find it."

"It has to be in here. Everything the Argent's have ever hunted is in there."

"Well maybe they haven't hunted anything like me before."

"You underestimate the Argents."

Lydia kept pacing her kitchen floor, frustrated. They had been through the entire bestiary, but they couldn't find anything that matched the abilities that Jordan had shown.

"Well," he said. "We're obviously not getting anywhere tonight, and I have an early shift in the morning, so I should get home."

He stood up and took the glass of water to the sink.

"I'm really sorry," Lydia told him. "I honestly thought that it would be in here."

He placed an assuring hand on her arm. "It's okay. I really appreciate the help. We'll find it out eventually."

"I hope," she said.

As they started walking towards the front door, he looked at her curiously. "Can I ask why you're so dedicated to finding out what I am?"

"I don't know," Lydia shrugged. "I guess it's because I know what it's like not to know, and how it can drive you crazy to not know why you can do what you do."

"How long did it take for you to find out that you're a Banshee?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A while," she said. "I was so confused, and I felt completely helpless to it. I actually did think that I was psychic for a little while there."

"That seems to be everyone's first assumption," he teased with a smile.

"Well, it is the most logical one," she replied with a smile of her own. "Not very many people actually think that Banshees exist."

"True," he nodded as they got to the door. "I'll see you."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

She shut the door, turning around and looking into her empty house. Her mother had a conference over the weekend, meaning it was just Lydia for the first time in a while.

She headed back to the kitchen to organize all the papers that held the translations that she had made. Once they were all back in the folder, she sighed. She was actually glad that the day was over. Just those few seconds around Stiles were completely nerve-wracking, and she hated it. Things were so much easier when he didn't know how she really felt.

She opened the fridge and pulled out the half-empty wine bottle before grabbing a glass from the cabinet. She needed to calm down, and this was the perfect way to do it.

''''''''''

"Why are you being weird?" Malia asked, looking at him from where she was lounging on his bed.

"What do you mean?" he said, spinning around in his desk chair to look at her.

"You only ever sit at your desk when there's important homework to get done," she said, getting up and walking over to him. "We don't have homework, because today was the last day of school, so what's up?"

"I, uh, I don't know," he shrugged. "Just habit, I guess."

She raised an eyebrow at him, spinning the chair around completely before straddling his lap. His hands immediately went around her waist as she pulled him into a deep kiss, running her hands through his hair. A shiver ran down his spine as her nails scratched his scalp, causing him to pull her closer. After a moment, he pulled away.

"My dad's downstairs," he said, his voice rough and his eyes still closed as he settled his forehead against hers.

"Then we'll be quiet," she teased, kissing and sucking right under his jaw. He felt a jolt in his stomach as his jeans suddenly were too tight, eliciting a quiet groan from his mouth. She giggled before grinding against him, making his hold on her waist tighten as a wave of pleasure came over him. His eyes closed again, and as her hands slowly made their way to the waistband of his jeans, he couldn't help but think the hair tickling his face was a beautiful strawberry blonde.

"Wait," he said, pulling away again.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I just…" he took a deep breath to calm himself down as Malia stood up. "I don't want my dad to walk in."

She cocked her head to the side, as if listening. "Why are you lying?"

"I'm not –"

"What's really going on?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't want to upset you –"

"I'm more upset that you won't tell me than if you would just say what's wrong."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. I just can't do this right now."

"It's Lydia, isn't it?"

His head popped up, and he looked at her in shock. "What – how did you know?"

"I overheard some of your conversation with her at prom," she said, looking at her hands.

"How much?" he asked.

"Enough to know that you two care about each other. A lot," she answered. "At first I thought that maybe you would do what she said and move on, but you're not going to, are you?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, shaking his head. "I thought I had moved on."

"Do you love her?" she asked, looking at him expectantly, her features strong even though her voice was small.

"Malia –"

"No," she snapped, her eyes hard. "Just answer the question. It's a simple yes or no."

"It's not that easy –"

"Yes it is!" she yelled, causing him to jump slightly. "Do you love her? Yes or no?"

"Yes," he nodded.

She nodded herself, looking above him at the wall. "You've never said you love me."

He sighed, standing up and taking a step toward her. "Malia – "

"I know you care for me," she said, holding a hand up to stop him. "I do. But if you love her more than you do me, I don't want to keep you from that."

She took a deep breath, and Stiles could see the unshed tears in her eyes. "But I also don't need to be strung along. I don't deserve to be your distraction."

"You're not," he said. "You're not a distraction."

"Then why does it feel like I am?" she asked.

Stiles didn't have an answer for her.

"I'm letting you go, Stiles," she told him. "If you want to be with Lydia, you need to be with her. I'm not going to stand in your way. And if you want to move on…you don't need to do with a rebound."

"Is everything alright in here?"

His dad was standing in the doorway, concern and curiosity in his features.

"Fine," Malia said, her voice finally cracking. "I was just leaving."

She turned around and headed for the door.

"Malia, wait."

"Goodbye, Stiles," she said harshly, brushing past his dad and leaving.

His dad sighed, leaning against the doorway as Stiles sat back in his chair. "Do I wanna know what that was about?"

''''''''''

Lydia poured the last of the wine in her glass, placing the bottle carefully back on the coffee table. It had been almost empty to begin with, but it still made her head fuzzy. She took a drink, closing her eyes as the taste washed over her tongue. God, she forgot how good wine tasted. She hadn't had it in so long. At first she had been afraid that drinking would make any voices or other Banshee problems worse, so she hadn't drank at all since any of that started.

It may or may not have messed with her tolerance.

The doorbell rang, causing her to jump. She stood up to go answer the door, taking her time. It rang again, this time followed by a series of knocks.

"I'm coming!" she yelled, her voice slurring slightly. That was odd. She had only had two glasses…or was it three? Four? Whatever.

She opened the door, leaning on it as she saw Jordan standing on the porch.

"Hey, handsome," she said, a sly smile finding its way on her face. "Forget something?"

"Actually, yes," he said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "My phone. Have you been drinking?"

"Depends," she said, narrowing her eyes back at him. "Are you going to arrest me?"

He rolled his eyes, smiling. "No. I'm not on duty, and I don't have my handcuffs."

"What a shame," she purred, looking over his toned physique. "Come on in."

Jordan stepped past her and she closed the door as he made his way to the kitchen. Her eyes roamed over his body again, eyes staying on his ass a few seconds longer than necessary. Making her way back to the living room, she plopped back down on the couch, leaving him to find his phone.

"Lydia?"

"Did you find it?" she asked as he came into the living room.

"Yeah," he said slowly, his eyes on the wine bottle. "Lydia, how much have you had to drink?"

"Relax," she said. "It wasn't a new bottle."

"Still," he replied. "How much?"

"Just a couple of glasses," she told him. "No big deal."

"Lydia, you're underage," he said, sitting down next to her. "Any drink is a big deal. Why are you drinking anyway?"

She shrugged, leaning her head on the back of the couch. "I just needed to unwind."

"There are better ways to unwind than wine," he told her, picking up the bottle and reading it.

Lydia couldn't help but start laughing. He looked at her curiously. "What's so funny?"

"What – you – said," she said in-between giggles. "_Wine_, Un_win…_d."

Rolling his eyes again, he put the wine bottle back down and turned to face her. "This isn't how you should unwind."

She looked at him and saw nothing but sincerity and concern in his eyes. A grin broke out on her face as a realization hit her. She knew how to unwind. It was much better than drinking alone. "No, it's not."

She pulled his face to hers, crashing their lips into a kiss. At first he was tense, but after a few seconds, he wrapped his arms around her, one around her waist, and one grasping the back of her head. She pushed him back, desire coursing through her as the straddled his lap. Suddenly, he pulled away, catching his breath.

"Lydia, stop," he said.

"Why?" she asked coyly. "Don't think that you can handle it?"

"No," he said, gently pushing her off of him and standing up. "You're drunk, and I'm not going to take advantage of you like that."

She sat back, crossing her arms and looking up at him. "Why can't we just have a little fun?"

"Because it's not right," he told her. "Not like this."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "So if it wasn't for me being hammered, you would have sex with me?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's not the point. The point is that you're drunk, and I should probably go."

"Okay," was all she said as she looked down at her hands.

"Goodnight, Lydia," he said, heading out of the living room.

"Bye," she answered softly, not even sure if he heard her or not. She was suddenly exhausted. She laid down on the couch, curling her legs up as she got comfortable. The door closed as she drifted off, leaving her alone.

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><p><strong>As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I am so sorry it took so long to update! Between midterms and tech week, I had no time to write. But here it is!**

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><p>"Stiles, get up."<p>

He groaned, putting his pillow over his head.

"You're not going to stay in bed all day, alright?" his dad said. "Get up and go do something."

"It's the first day of summer break," he begged. "And my girlfriend dumped me last night. I can have one day of staying in bed, can't I?"

His dad seemed to think about this for a moment. "No. Get up. Go do something with Scott."

"Like what?" Stiles asked, taking the pillow off of his head.

"It's summer," he shrugged, backing out of the room. "Go to the beach."

"Oh, yeah," Stiles called out as his dad walked down the hall. "Go to the beach on the same day as literally _everybody_ else. Great idea!"

He threw the covers off of himself, angrily standing up and stomping to the dresser.

"Go to the beach," he muttered as he pulled clothes out. "Yeah, sure. We can go to the beach, and if we're lucky enough to find a spot to stand, we can get pushed around by old people and inadvertently ruin kid's sandcastles. Awesome!"

Honestly, it wasn't that he didn't like the beach, he just didn't want to go anywhere.

His phone rang.

"What's up, Scottie?" he greeted.

"Hey," his best friend said. "Got anything planned for today?"

"Nope, not at all," he answered. "Wanna come over and play some games?"

"Sure," Scott said. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

''''''''''

Lydia checked herself in the visor mirror, making sure she didn't look as bad as she felt.

While she had missed the feeling that alcohol gave her, she definitely didn't miss the hangovers.

Deeming herself presentable, she got out of the car and entered the Sheriff's station.

"Hey, Lydia," the deputy at the front desk greeted her. "You here to see Parrish?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered. "Is he here, or is he on patrol?"

"He's here," the deputy said. "Go ahead."

"Thanks."

Her stomach twisted as she went into the bull-pen, spotting Parrish at his desk. He was looking over a file, too focused on it to notice her entrance.

She could still go. He didn't even know that she was there. All she had to do was turn around and leave, and he'd never know. She shouldn't have come in the first place.

Quickly, she turned around and went back through the door.

"Done already?" the deputy asked.

"He's really busy with paperwork. I'll check in with him later," Lydia explained. "Bye."

"Bye."

Walking back to her car, she heard the building door open. "Lydia?"

She stopped, taking a deep breath. By the time she turned around, Jordan was only a few feet from her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, looking at her with concern.

"Fine," she told him, shrugging. "I just came to, um, apologize…for last night."

"You don't have to –"

"Yes, I do," she interrupted. "I was stupid, and put both of us in an awkward situation. I probably would've jumped on anyone who showed up last night and stayed longer than five minutes."

"Really, Lydia," he told her, taking a step towards her. "It's fine. I'm just glad that I was the one who showed up. I would've hated for it to be someone who would've taken advantage of that."

"I'm glad that it was you, too," she said. "But I shouldn't have done it in the first place. You don't deserve that."

"I don't deserve a one-night stand?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"You don't deserve to be a distraction."

"Oh," he said, eyes widening slightly. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, obviously not knowing what to say. "Yeah, right."

Guilt clenched her stomach as she bit her lip. She knew that he liked her, but she didn't realize how much until she saw how much her admission hurt him. "I'm so sorry."

"I already told you there's nothing to be sorry about," he told her. "You don't have to keep apologizing."

"Okay," she said. "I won't apologize, but I do feel like I have to explain."

"You don't," Jordan said. "You don't have to."

"I feel like –"

"No, you don't," he interrupted. "I know."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not sure how to respond to his statement. "You do?"

"Of course," he said, giving a small chuckle. "Even though you guys don't spend that much time together, you'd have to be blind not to see that you and Stiles care about each other."

"Is it seriously that obvious?" she asked, stomping her foot in frustration. How the hell had she kept it from him for so long if literally _everyone_ _else_ saw it?

"It kind of is," he nodded. "But it's okay. I personally think that you guys would be really good together."

"Except that he's moving on with Malia," she told him, crossing her arms.

"Well, there is that," he said. "But I think you're wrong about him moving on."

Again, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What makes you say that?"

A car pulled into the lot, and Lydia recognized it as the Sheriff's. He pulled into his space and got out with a cup of coffee, walking towards them.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Lydia answered quickly, shooting him a smile. Like she was going to tell him that she tried to bone one of his best deputies the night before. "Just talking."

"You guys don't usually talk outside," the Sheriff said, confused.

"I was just getting ready to leave," she explained.

"Okay," he said.

"I'll see you guys later," she said, waving as she turned to go to her car.

"Walking her to her car now, huh, Parrish?" she distantly heard the Sheriff say teasingly as she opened her car door. She didn't hear Jordan's response.

''''''''''

Stiles tossed his controller away from him in frustration after Scott killed him _again._

"I don't even know why I play with you," he said. "I know you just use your reflexes to cheat."

"I do not cheat!" Scott argued. "I beat you way more than you beat me even before I was a werewolf."

"That's a matter of opinion," Stiles huffed, picking the controller back up.

"Oh, is it?" Scott asked, a smirk forming in his lips. "Wanna look at the stats on some of your old games?"

"Now that's just a waste of time."

"Sure." His best friend rolled his eyes as the front door opened.

"Hey, Scott," his dad said, stepping into the living room. "Staying for dinner?"

"I probably shouldn't," Scott admitted. "Mom has the night off, so I should go eat with her."

"Call her and tell her to come over here," John told him. "Ask her if burgers are okay."

"You're getting a veggie burger," Stiles insisted, standing up as Scott pulled out his phone. "Melissa can get whatever she wants."

"As long as I have curly fries," his dad said.

Stiles raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms. "A small curly fry."

His dad raise his hands in surrender, backing away from the doorway. "I'll take what I can get."

"My mom will be here in a little bit," Scott said, his phone still to his ear. "Do you want her to pick it up since she'll be out anyway?"

"No, I'll go get it," Stiles offered. "Does she want her usual?"

"Yeah," Scott said before talking to his mom again.

"I'll be back," Stiles said, pulling on his sneakers and walking out the door.

''''''''''

Lydia sat down at a booth in the diner as she waited on her food. Pulling out her phone, she checked her messages, reading the one from her mom that told her that she had a last minute dinner meeting, which is what led Lydia to the diner in the first place.

She hadn't been there in months, but at that moment, she was really craving a milkshake and fries. There wasn't a milkshake in town that was better than the ones they made at Kelly's Diner.

She saw someone plop down in the seat across from her in her peripheral, causing her to look up and see Malia staring at her curiously.

"Hey," she said, setting her phone on the table. "What's up?"

"I'm here with my, uh, my dad," she said, pointing to the door where Mr. Tate was waiting. "Or whatever he is."

"Malia," Lydia told her, giving her a pointed look. "Peter is your sperm donor. Mr. Tate is your dad, okay?"

"Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my sperm donor and my dad are two different people," she shrugged. "Anyway, I thought that you would be with Stiles."

Lydia sat back slightly, surprised by the coyote's assumption. "Why would I be with Stiles?"

"So you guys could be happy," she said, sounding confused. She swallowed heavily, looking at her hands. "I mean…that's why I broke up with him."

"What?" Shock washed over Lydia, and she leaned forward to whisper. "Malia, what the hell are you talking about?"

"He didn't tell you?" Malia asked, looking back up at her.

"No!" she replied. "Malia, why did you break up with him?"

"Because he didn't love me," she explained. "Not like he loves you."

"Malia, that's not –"

"Yes it is," she snapped. "It's true. He basically admitted it."

Suddenly Lydia couldn't look at the girl sitting across from her. She knew that it was all her fault. She opened her stupid mouth and ruined a good relationship because of it.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, looking at the table as shame filled her. Her eyes burned, her vision blurring from the guilt. "I…he was supposed to be in love with you and be happy. That's what…that's what he deserves. He deserves to move on from me."

"Well he hasn't," Malia told her, her own voice thick. "But I don't deserve to be his distraction, so I ended it."

Lydia glanced at her, smiling at the coyote's words about herself. "You're right. You don't deserve that. You deserve to be happy."

"I do," Malia said. "I guess you taught me something."

"How did I teach you that?" she asked, looking at Malia.

The girl shrugged. "I don't know. I guess you…lead by example? Is that the phrase?"

"Yes," Lydia nodded. "That's the phrase."

A waiter came to the table with Lydia's food, all bagged up to go. She thanked him before looking back at Malia.

"I should go," she told her, grabbing her phone as they both stood up. "I really am sorry about you and Stiles."

"Don't be," Malia said. "Seriously."

They walked out together, and Malia ran to the car as her dad started it. As they pulled away, a familiar powder blue Jeep turned into the lot, parking a few spaces down from her car. He got out of the Jeep, not noticing her as he looked at his phone. She felt a prick of anger looking at him, and it was only growing.

Taking a deep breath, she stalked over to him, only stopping when she was right in front of him.

"Lydia?" he asked, finally looking up from his phone. "What –"

"How dare you," she interrupted. "How fucking dare you."

His eyes were wide and confused as he took in her anger. "What are you talking about?

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" she said, the anger spiking. "How could you just end the great thing you had with Malia?"

"What? She broke up with me!" He argued.

"And you let her!"

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked. "She didn't want to be in a relationship anymore –"

"She didn't want to be a distraction!" Lydia said. "There's a _big_ difference. Were you making her feel like she was just a distraction? _Was_ she just a distraction? You know what? Don't answer that."

Pushing past him, she headed towards her car, taking a drink of her milkshake.

"Are you always going to be mad at me?" he asked from behind her.

She stopped, confused as she turned back around. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Are you always gonna be mad at me?" he repeated, taking a few steps towards her. "You're mad at me because you love me and you think I've moved on, and even when you know I haven't and we actually can be together now, you're still mad?"

"Stiles," she said exasperatedly. "We've had this conversation. You need to move on. End of story."

"You don't think that I've tried?" he asked, taking another step towards her. "I have been trying to get over you for years! And in a way, I have."

"Really?" she said, trying not to show how that hurt. "You're over me?"

"I'm over the infatuation. I'm over the obsession. Because since the third grade, I put you on a pedestal, thinking you were some perfect goddess or something! But I've moved on from that. You're off the pedestal. You're human. You're flawed. I see that now."

"Good to –"

"I'm not done," he said, holding a finger up. "I see all of that now, but you know what? It wasn't until I saw all your flaws and humanness that I truly fell in love with you, and I don't think I'll ever be over that."

"That's what you always think," she told him. "You always think that you'll never be over it, no matter how much you want to."

"But I don't want to be over it. Not anymore."

Her heart skipped a beat as she closed her eyes. Didn't he know that he was just making it harder?

Squaring her shoulders, she looked him in the eye. "Well, I do."

She saw the hurt in his eyes before he looked down.

"Is that what you really want?" he asked, his voice levelled and controlled.

No. "Yes."

Stiles nodded slowly, refusing to look at her. "Okay."

"Stiles –"

"No, it's okay," he assured. "That's what I needed to know. I'll, uh, I'll see you around."

He turned quickly, and he was inside before she could say anything. She was tempted to go in there and take it all back, because she regretted it as soon as she said it. She wanted him to move on, but it wasn't for the reasons he probably believed. She just wanted him to be safe.

So she didn't follow him. She took her food and went home.

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><p><strong>There will be one more chapter.<strong>

**As always, I love to hear your thoughts!**


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